


congratulations beautiful

by ElasticElla



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Attempt 218, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, F/F, Fans for Equality and Justice's Equality Auction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: In Attempt #218, Michael decides to focus on torturing Chidi through Jason. If the previous 217 attempts have taught him anything, Eleanor and Tahani can be trusted to make each other miserable.
Relationships: Tahani Al-Jamil/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	congratulations beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [archase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/archase/gifts).



"This is your soulmate. Tahani." 

It's like Eleanor has died and gone to heaven, a tall sexy tan angel in her doorway framed by light, only she totally _has_. 

"Such a pleasure to meet you soulmate," Tahani says, walking to her. 

"Bring it in gorgeous," Eleanor says, hugging her. Even her hugs are perfect, and her hair smells like some amazing flower, and if Eleanor needed any confirmation she didn't belong here besides the foreign movie memories and the old dude's insistence that she was an amazing person – the idea of this picture perfect woman being her soulmate would do it alone. 

There's a beat of silence after the hug breaks, Tahani shuffling back, and Eleanor's gotta respect that with all that height, she wears heels. 

Michael clasps both of their shoulders, "Oh I love soulmate meetings! Just like seeing in another dimension, isn't it? Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds, and see you at tonight's party." 

Tahani smiles, Eleanor's gut screaming fake, as she says, "It shall be the fest of the year, Rihanna's birthday meets Rihanna's brunch." 

Eleanor doesn't even know what that means, turns to Michael, but he's whistling a jaunty tune and walking out of her tiny creepy clown house. She has a feeling bringing up that time Rihanna was late and hungover to her own concert will not fly. 

Tahani takes her hands in hers, towering over her. "My dear Eleanor, while I had many conquests before this – Idris at an Arsenal match, The Rock was my rock for a little while, a delightful fling with Ryan and Blake, Keanu at the second Matrix premiere, Keanu at the third Matrix premiere-"

Eleanor is doing _so_ well at not rolling her eyes right now, but can't keep listening to this. "I get it babe, you got with a ton of hot famous people." 

"Right, well, you are my soulmate dear. None of before matters, I only want to focus on us." She says, cloyingly sweet as she squeezes her hands. 

Eleanor swallows, forces a smile that must look just as fake. "That sounds great... soulmate." 

Tahani beams, dropping her hands and clapping her own. "Wonderful! I have the best idea. Janet!" 

A woman pops in, saying hello, Eleanor yelping, "What the fork! Fork? Fork! Why am I saying fork?" 

"Ah, some residents find it uncouth to swear, so it's been banned," Tahani says before turning to the woman who just freakin' teleported in. "Janet, we require a picnic basket. A Sunday brunch basket, akin to those of the marquess."

Eleanor isn't paying attention as Tahani goes off on a tangent about said marquess, frowning and muttering different swears. "Ashhole. Ash? Bench. Shirt. Cork. Dinkhead. Motherforker."

Ugh. That's going to be annoying to get used to. There should be swearing and non-swearing Good Places, like how hotels have smoking and non-smoking rooms. Sure, the sheets get mixed up so every room has some degree of smokiness to the smell, but that's cheap motels baby. 

"-shall we?" 

Eleanor blinks up at her, the busty robot is gone and there's an oversized basket on Tahani's arm. "Lead the way hot stuff." 

Tahani leads them to the ridiculously huge mansion next door, casually going right into their gardens without a care. Eleanor grins at the action, might genuinely like this chick. The icing on the cake would be if the owners of overcompensation castle tried to kick them out, giving them an excuse to egg the place. They'd need like _hundreds_ of eggs, and sexy robot lady could magic them up for them. 

"-modeled after my dear friend Catherine's garden. Scone?" Tahani asks, unpacking the basket. 

Eleanor snatches one that looks like chocolate chip, "So what did – you've seen my uh, good person memories. What did you do to get here?" 

"Oh!" Tahani's eyebrows pop up, "You don't know who I am, how unique. Most predominantly I raised nearly sixty billion for charity."

Eleanor nearly chokes on her scone, and gross it's blueberry. "Holy shirtballs, that's a lot of money." 

Tahani smiles, "We did quite well, yes. We did sponsor quite a few aid groups to Sudan, perhaps even – which organization were you with?" 

The trick to any lie is confidence. Cleavage and eye-contact are solid additions, and Eleanor doesn't betray herself through body language. 

"Basket Breads. We brought food to the hungry and our signature bread in baskets." 

Just regular language. Forking eh. 

"How peculiar, I haven't heard of that group. And I thought I knew all the nonprofits that operated in our areas. Nice to be reminded how large the world really is!" 

"It is!" Eleanor agrees with a small fake laugh. "So, soulmate. You'll stand by me no matter what, right? Promise?" 

Her face falls, and fork everything. "Alas, I have been spurned too many times by friends I thought could never do what they did to promise such." Tahani takes her hands, and god, her skin is so soft. "I can promise that as long as you remain the good person that allowed you to be in the Good Place with me, I will be beside you." 

"Cool," Eleanor breathes, plastic smile back. "Anyways enough about the past, let's talk future lady." 

Tahani's eyes implausibly seem even bigger, and Eleanor totally snagged a Disney princess. "You're right! We simply must match for tonight's gala. Come, Janet's already designated a soulmate closet opposite mine." 

And Eleanor follows her into the ridiculously huge mansion. Because _of forking course_ the modern castle is Tahani's place.

.

Eleanor isn't usually one to take a ton of time getting ready. It's a valuable skill to be cocktail or funeral or work or party ready in under ten minutes. (Fifteen with a hangover.) Falls in with other useful skills like ditching a bad date with the bill and avoiding one's landlord. Things her mother _should_ have taught her but - 

Whatever. Spending half a day getting ready for an hour event is for sure a rich person thing, and she's digging this entitlement. The bath alone she could've stayed in all day, water cozy warm and never cooling, and tons of tiny bubbles that refused to pop until she drained the tub. Unfortunately, she's pretty sure a good person wouldn't ditch their soulmate's gala – because apparently Tahani's hosting the event in her ginormous house. She needs to get some like good person lessons so she knows exactly how much social crap can be skipped without hitting anyone's radar. 

Pity her soulmate's totes a snitch. Per usual, she'll be dealing with this mess by herself. 

"Eleanor!"

Later. When said sexy would-be snitch isn't calling for her. 

Wrapping a towel around herself, Eleanor opens up the bathroom. Leaning in the doorjamb, and if this really is heaven, there will be a plume of steam making her look way hotter than normal. "Sup babe?" 

Tahani blinks, and then gestures to the bed, a deep purple ball gown seemingly the same as what she's wearing. She's adjusting her elbow length gloves, as she says, "I had Janet make a match for you."

Eleanor gets a horrible vision of a _Who Wore It Better_ page with the two of them. Both looking fine, but Tahani obviously wearing it better, and fancy Eleanor wouldn't stand for that, would rip off Tahani's dress and Tahani probably wouldn't even fight back. Too snobby for that. Not too snobby for sex though, and if they're already ripping off dresses –

"Did you have another color palette or cut in mind?" 

Eleanor clears her throat, "You look great. I'm just gonna look at all the options." 

Tahani opens her mouth and shuts it, then says, "I see. I'll be downstairs when you're ready." 

"Hey, it'll match okay? I'll have the resident robot change it if needed."

Tahani nods, heels clicking on the floor as she leaves. Eleanor had checked out her closet before getting in the bath, more fancy dresses and suits than a single eternity could possibly need. While in her initial visit, she'd been digging a slinky little black number, seeing Tahani all decked out, she's reconsidering. 

All night they're going to be compared, at the very least by Eleanor herself. A cocktail dress will look under-dressed, and it's doubtful any of the ballgowns will be comfortable or flattering for very long. Not to mention, she can't competing with Tahani's perfect forkin' figure. On the other hand, she can go with a suit, that'll make them a matching pair like Tahani wants and it won't matter that Eleanor was too lazy to shave her legs earlier. _And_ she won't have to deal with tights when she inevitably needs to pee fifteen minutes after joining the party. Jackpot. 

Eleanor goes with a light cream suit that's nearly white, and a purple shirt that's the exact right hue. She looks dang awesome. 

All that's left to do is her hair, and judging by the quiet sounds, no one's arrived yet. Eleanor can easily milk twenty minutes of drying her hair, and then people will be here and oh, so sad she won't be able to help with any last minute preparations. 

She is gonna rock this system. She's gonna-

Holyshirt. Her hair's already dry. 

"Magic hair dryer," Eleanor whispers, setting it back on the sink. 

She crashes on the bed, plush comforter nearly swallowing her. Eleanor wishes she had her phone to fork around on some games. There's nothing to do up here and she really doesn't want to go down. Gah, so boring.

She closes her eyes for a bit, Tahani's bed is so much more warm and comfortable than hers. 

.

Her eyes drowsily open, distant chattering making her groan. 

Realization strikes, and Eleanor jumps up, running her fingers through her hair and checking her reflection. Luckily she didn't move much in her nap, and sliding on shoes, she looks set. 

She'll casually sneak into the party, and pretend she was there from the beginning. Walking on her toes, Eleanor's nearly silent as she descends the staircase. Might've made it were it not for a grinning Michael at the landing. 

"Eleanor! Woman of the hour, so glad you made it! I'm in charge of the 'goodie bags'." 

"Cool man," Eleanor says. There's a table beside him full of little black bags with silver tissue paper. There's some guy opening one, a huge grin on his face. 

"Oh, Tahani! A gameboy advance and my favorite frogger! How did you know?"

Tahani smiles, all fake benevolence, "Janet helped me with the selections, welcome to the neighborhood!" 

"Too sweet," the guy says, a few other neighbors commenting how very perfect Tahani is. 

Eleanor forces a smile, and turns to Michael. "Hit me." 

"Ah. This is awkward," Michael says. 

"Come silly dear, let's get you a drink," Tahani says, taking her arm and leading her to the bar. Her voice drops as she murmurs above her ear, "Hosts don't get swag bags, how terribly gauche that would be." 

"Right, 'course. Forgot." 

"No matter. Red or white?" 

Eleanor's eyeing the bottle of tequila in the back, could really go for that. "Whichever you're having babe." 

Tahani dithers before grabbing a third bottle, muttering about Australia and blush wines and Steve's assurances, whoever he is. Eleanor looks out to, ugh, their guests, eyes drawn to the goodie bags. Some nerd is looking way too excited over a lame book, and some hot chick is looking the right amount of excited for an epic looking vibrator. At least this place has one cool person. 

"-you are. The underlying pear is quite exquisite." 

From anyone else, Eleanor would assume they're hitting on her, but Tahani isn't looking at her ass, and it checks out that her not-soulmate is that much of a wine snob. 

"Cool," Eleanor says, taking the glass and clinking them together before drinking. Tahani winces, eyes darting across the room. 

"Oh dear, someone's mangled the fondue dippers. Excuse me, do have fun mingling darling!" 

"Go get 'em tiger," Eleanor answers, gulping down the wine. It tastes... like forking grapes. On the sweet side, it is very drinkable, and this better not be like the swearing situation – she deserves a decent buzz. Ugh. She can't even tell yet if it's working or not. Yet another reason wine sucks.

"-Jaguars are killing it this season-" 

"Dude!" 

Her ears perk, only locals would rep their shitty sports teams and a Florida man would be perfect for gauging about how 'good' she needs to seem. 

"Eleanor! Just the host I was looking for, I'm Angelique." She's being hugged suddenly, and lucky thing her wine glass is empty, as it tilts sideways. 

"Good to meet you, what's up?" 

Angelique tucks her curls behind her ear, and shirt, Eleanor's really beginning to believe there's a correlation with goodness and hotness. 

"I wanted to thank you for hosting such an amazing welcome party! You and Tahani must be the most perfect match. I hate leaving so early, but my soulmate isn't doing well-"

"Wait, you can get sick up here?" Eleanor interrupts. 

"No. Er, I don't think so? She's um, not dealing with the whole," Angelique lowers her voice, "being dead very well." She brightens, voice returning to normal, "But Tahani said I could take some fondue to go, and I think that'll really lift her spirits." 

Angelique hugs her again, weird vibe, must be a good person thing, and Eleanor scouts out the bar for their own local Florida man. There's a guy talking about donating his organs, another about Sartre, and a monk sipping water. 

Shirt, he must've moved. With a sigh, Eleanor refills her wine glass. Standing up, she's a bit woozy, and oh nice, the alcohol has finally kicked in on her empty stomach. That would also explain the timeless feeling and how utterly chill she is. She is _so_ rocking this death thing. 

Some dude is approaching her, smile too wide and Eleanor is so not drunk enough for small talk with goodie two shoes number whatever. She spies a shrimp cocktail platter circulating the room, makes a beeline for it. Also Janet, tonight's shrimp delivery device. 

They are the absolute largest jumbo shrimp she's ever seen, and she scarfs one down – always gotta do a flavor check with the big ones – and they're amazing. 

"Stay right here with them shrampies girl," Eleanor drawls. 

Janet smiles, cocks her head to the side, "Okay. I am not a girl." 

"Right," Eleanor says, devouring another two shrimp before slowing down. "So give me the deets. You know everything about everyone yeah? Can you tell me about these lovely people? Worst embarrassments, fears, the spiel." 

"I am not permitted to give private information about residents-" 

"Whatever," she cuts her off, and, oh hey, new idea. "Hey, there was a guy that lived in Avondale for a while, Kevin Paltonic. He gay?" 

"No." 

"Really?" Eleanor bites off half the shrimp, feels better instantly. "Guess he didn't wanna get up in all this." 

"That is correct." 

Eleanor rolls her eyes, "Whatever. I wasn't that into him." 

"Yes, you were." 

"Got it Janet. Any fun factoids that are like, the opposite of that?" 

"Kevin Paltonic was later engaged to marry Natalie Tan. The engagement fell apart after Natalie had a one-night stand with a woman and said she felt more passion in that one night than their entire engagement." 

Eleanor feels a bit of bitter glee, but Janet's looking expectant at her. "Uh huh?" 

"You were the one-night stand Eleanor. Natalie used a fake name, Leah, and brought you back to her apartment after three point eight shared scorpion bowls. You were both-" 

"I remember!" Eleanor interrupts as other guests – rude, eavesdropping guests – are throwing her some serious side-eye. 

Janet beams. 

Eleanor takes a few last shrimp, can feel the buttheads' judgmental gazes still. "Alright not-lady, go shrimp up everybody else." 

She returns to the bar, goes behind it this time, is having some tequila dang it. 

.

Bambadjan is a badass. He matches her shot for shot, has epic stories about the WWE. He met Hulk Hogan and Dwayne The Rock Johnson and Ronda Rousey and John Cena. Heck, he shared a drink with Stone Cold Steve Austin! His daughter was becoming a wrestler, or married one maybe, Eleanor's hazy on the details, but it's all good. 

The party gets quieter and quieter as the bottle of tequila empties, and finally Bambadjan's hugging her goodnight. Fork, what is up with good people and hugging? 

Tahani's all ethereal and gorgeous, and a million feet too tall to casually kiss. Not that she's gonna do that, because she's totally playing the good person soulmate, and good people probably don't do drunken first kisses or forks. _Fork_ she misses swearing so much already. 

Moving is hard, but Tahani's arm is anchoring her, which wrong thing, but whatever, she's mad helpful in getting upstairs. (And who designed this big ash castle and put the beds upstairs? Ugh.)

Eleanor looks up at Tahani, and even at what should be an unflattering angle, she looks immaculate. 

"You're so gorgeous. Congrats," Eleanor giggles, "I bet you got that like all the time, back on Earth." 

Tahani hums, "Well, it's silly but my name, 'Tahani' means 'congratulations' in Arabic. And 'Al-Jamil' means 'beautiful', so."

"Congratulations beautiful," Eleanor says.

"Come, we're almost there, you big flirt." 

Somehow they get to the master bedroom without falling, or Eleanor doesn't think she fell – she can't really recall the journey here. And she isn't in pain either, though eh, given the tequila that might not hit until later. Bleh, morning is gonna be so gross. 

Tahani helps her onto the bed like the gorgeous angel she is. Eleanor yawns big, "Sorry about tonight. Got comp-competitive with the shots." 

"...do you usually drink so much at gatherings?"

Eleanor snorts, "Only when there's a bunch of strangers." The words catch up with her slow, and Eleanor adds on, "Not that – I mean, it was a great party." 

Tahani tucks her in, "No matter, good night Eleanor." 

"Night." 

Her eyes fall shut, and she slips off to sleep as the gentlest kiss is pressed upon her forehead. 

.

The very first thing Eleanor realizes upon waking is that she doesn't have a hangover and she absolutely should. The second is that there's screaming coming from outside, and she should probably investigate. Third, and least importantly, is apparently Tahani dressed her in some weird prison jumpsuit pajamas with a number five on the breast. 

Good news: chances of not her soulmate being into kinky roleplay have skyrocketed. 

Bad news: she cannot find said soulmate.

After a brief detour to brush her teeth, Eleanor decides to do the move that's gotten her into countless concerts for free: namely follow the noise and ignore all pesky signs. 

The center of town is a combination of a zoo escape and those weird paintings with stuff that clearly doesn't belong. Like the hundreds of penguins milling about, and they are not smelling fresh. Something is burning, Ariana Grande's _Side to Side_ is playing loudly, and fireworks are going off randomly, scaring the penguins. Everyone else is in the matching prison pajamas. Michael is freaking out in the center with Janet, and Eleanor spots Tahani, makes her way over. 

"What's going on?" 

"Total madness! I was out to get some breakfast pastries whilst you slept, and this, this _mess_ has taken over." 

"Do they know what caused-" 

"KILLER BEES!" someone shouts. Eleanor looks up in horror, a swarm of gigantic bees, each the size of a watermelon, hurtling their way. 

She runs back to the house with Tahani, Tahani quickly outpacing her. With her stupid long legs, Eleanor doesn't have a chance at passing her, hopes the bees are chasing someone slower. Dang it, she is not an endurance runner, not a runner at all, air burning in her lungs and muscles aching already. 

The buzzing is getting louder, and adrenaline propels her forwards. Eleanor refuses to look back, doesn't want to know what happens if you die again up here. 

"Nearly there Eleanor!" Tahani calls, worry clear on her face. 

Fork, the bees must be closer than they sound. She takes a harsh inhale, and sprints the rest of the way. Dizzy as she passes the threshold, Tahani slamming the door behind her. She just barely catches herself in a trip, panting. 

There's a heavy thump as a bee slams into a door. Tahani brushes her self off, looking pristine. "How very unfortunate, I'll make us a spot of tea."

Eleanor could really go for something harder, but would probably sound like a no-good alcoholic needing vodka at whatever time it is in the morning. "Imma – water," she manages to say, swallowing gulps of air. Ugh, she probably looks all splotchy and sweaty and gross. 

The living room is a bit messy but whatever, the kitchen looks like a bomb went off. There are dirty dishes all about, empty and half-empty bottles, an unfinished batter of some sort, and trays full of diced fruit and bread that have gone stale. 

Tahani gasps, "What ever did happen here?"

"You did throw a party babe," Eleanor says, stepping carefully through the maze to get some water. None of the glasses are clean, so she grabs a bowl instead. As she does, she discovers the saddest sight of all: a plate of leftover shrimps that went bad in the cupboard. Even worse, she's pretty sure she stashed them there to hide them from guests. 

"Janet!" Tahani calls, the being popping in. 

"Hi there." 

"Is there a cleaning service in the Good Place?" 

"I provide all services in the Good Place. Would you like your house cleaned?" 

Tahani hesitates, and Eleanor isn't cleaning up what's sure to be a bigger mess in the huge party room. "Yes!" 

Janet spins in a circle, a popping sound, and then the kitchen is seemingly brand new. All of the dishes are clean and put away, leftover food and trash gone, and every surface is shiny. 

"How wonderful, thank you Janet," Tahani says.

Eleanor swaps her water bowl for a glass. She isn't thirsty anymore, but she doesn't want any bitter leaf water. 

"Important announcement! Important announcement! Important announcement!" Janet's voice echoes from the other room. 

Trading a look, they both go into the living room – and it even smells nicer now, some cinnamon thing. The television is on, Michael and Janet behind a desk. It'd look more calming, more normal, if they weren't still wearing the bright orange pajamas. 

"Greetings residents! I have removed all bees from the neighborhood, and contained other elements from this morning's mishap. While we are still investigating the cause, please remain inside. We will alert you once this glitch has been dealt with. Do not attempt to change clothes," Michael pauses, and an image pops up to the right of a man that looks like a Picasso painting, all exaggerated features and splotchy unnatural colors. "Thank you." 

The television goes dark.

Tahani sighs, picking at her cuffs. "While my good friend Laura is always trying to convince me orange is the new black – it really, truly is not." 

.

Tahani is on her second cup of tea and millionth anecdote about some celebrity, no signs of slowing down. She takes a sip, and Eleanor doesn't care if she never hears the end of five Chrises at a party confusion story. 

"Is there like a map of this house? There's gotta be some, uh, recreational rooms yeah?" 

"Most such places are outside: the gardens, archery ranges, thirty-six regulation grass tennis courts. Though there is a bowling alley and a squash court in the basement." 

Well, at least she can be knocking things down while Tahani goes on about her perfect life. 

"Cool, I haven't bowled in forever. Let's hit the basement." 

"I'm in the same boat, I haven't bowled since oh, Meghan and I went out on the town. You could say she was all about that bowl, no trouble." She winks at the end, and with dawning horror, Eleanor realizes Tahani genuinely thinks her stupid braggy stories are charming. 

"Yay!" Eleanor says, must inject enough glee as Tahani's smile doesn't dim. Ugh, she's so narcissistic and self-centered and tall and hot, and dang it now she's turned on. 

.

Tahani has won the past four out of five games, and Eleanor's pretty sure that one loss was on purpose. But after a not even slightly filling lunch of cucumber sandwiches and papaya juice, she figured it was acceptable to start drinking. A tray of nachos and a pitcher of beer later, and Eleanor doesn't mind losing anymore. 

Against all sense, Tahani's behind looks fine in the garish orange, and then suddenly it's blue, the pajamas replaced by a cute dress. Eleanor looks down, and she's back in a regular top and jeans. 

"Oh huzzah! Shall we head upstairs and check on the television?" 

"Yeah, right behind you hot stuff." 

Eleanor finishes her beer and the best looking chip that remains, nearly all cheese and bacon bits. 

Rather than a video message, there's an invitation on the tv. _We fixed it! Safe to go outside, block party on now!_ There's a crude illustration of happy people under a sun. It looks like it was done in Microsoft Paint, and Eleanor is wary. 

Tahani isn't. "Marvelous, isn't it darling? Do you think we should bring something? What does one bring to a party in utopia where anything can be created in a snap?" 

"Our selves," Eleanor retorts, and oh, deep points, she's nailing this. 

Tahani smiles, softer. "Quite right." 

And feeling torn between impostor and caricature, Eleanor offers her elbow. "My lady?" 

Tahani giggles, threading her arm through, and starts off on a story all about dear Beyonce that lasts the whole walk. Eleanor's gotten better at anticipating Tahani's delivery, doesn't even have to listen to ask questions at the appropriate pause points. And Tahani's glowing under the late sun, face all animated and gorgeous, and Eleanor doesn't notice the terrible jazz until Michael is bounding up to them with a wide grin. 

"Isn't this great?" He yells over the saxophone, gesturing to a big projection screen where there's a large picture of Eleanor's face. "I thought it'd be a fun way for all residents to get to know each other! The playlist is made up of everyone's favorite songs, how cool is that!"

Forking jazz. The bottom half of the screen has the song title – One Down, One Up – and a progress bar, showing eighteen minutes remaining. _Fork_ jazz.

"So cool," Eleanor mutters. 

"How extraordinary Michael! I must confess, I'm not sure which song is my favorite. There are so very many musicians dear to my heart." 

Michael's eyes seem to twinkle, "We'll find out together! Janet put everything together, I only know there are 322 songs!" 

Tahani's eyes bug out, and Eleanor's sure hers have done the same. "Michael... how long is this party precisely?" 

"As they say in France, we dance till we die!" Michael exclaims, grabbing sunglasses and joining the people dancing. 

Tahani drops her voice, dipping to talk directly into her ear, "That is most assuredly _not_ what they say in France." 

Eleanor laughs, until she spots nerds heading their direction, and she has a sinking feeling that they're all jazz enthusiasts. 

"Wanna dance? You'll have to lead though-" 

"Of course, I am far taller." 

"-... because I'm terrible at dancing." 

Tahani flashes her a smile, "Easy enough to remedy my dear. I once taught dear Tommy the foxtrot. Come we'll start with a simple east coast swing and build." 

Eleanor honestly didn't think anything could make her detest jazz more. Nor did she think she could hate an activity that involved her hands on Tahani's rockin' bod. But flailing around on the dance floor, tripping and face burning does the trick. 

And another round for the back, she thinks: _fork jazz_. 

Tahani's a surprisingly patient teacher, even after being accidentally stomped on, and Eleanor's more than happy to grab them drinks as her 'favorite' song ends. Waiting in line for punch, it hits her that she's happy. Somehow with the worst music (seriously whose favorite song is Rick Astley's _Never Gonna Give You Up_?), and surrounded by all these obnoxious perfect people, Eleanor's happy. 

Tahani catches her eye across the floor, talking to someone, giving her a little wave and smile. 

And all it would take to lose it is one person realizing she doesn't belong here. 

_Fork_. 

.

Eleanor doesn't sleep well. Doesn't sleep much at all. She tries showering (in the downstairs bathroom, she's not a total ashhole), drip dries in the living room on the fainting couch like a fancy woman about to have her portrait done. She tries warm milk and weird whisper videos, total silence and counting sheep. 

None of it works, none of it stops the anxiety grating on her nerves. What if she's discovered? What if something happens that proves she doesn't have any memories of her alleged humanitarian deeds? What if there's some soulmate test, and Tahani realizes they aren't a match? 

She's spiraling out, needs to think of what chill Eleanor would do. If she weren't so freaked about being discovered, what would be her first priority? 

Well. That's easy. To _not_ be found out in the first place. And Eleanor is a master of getting away with shirt, she can do this. There aren't any witnesses, and presumably the main way she would be discovered is by reacting poorly to another person. She just has to fake being good so there's no reason to ever investigate her. 

Dang, up all night Eleanor is a forking genius. 

Yawning big, she stumbles back to bed, eyes shut before she lands on the pillow. 

.

It hits her in the morning, that she's spent more nights in Tahani's house than her own. While she recoils at the idea of abandoning her own house entirely, there's no comparing a tiny creepy clown house to a gorgeous mansion. Even if she nearly trips every morning walking downstairs half-awake.

"Morning sleepyhead. There are waffles staying warm in the oven." 

On cue, her stomach growls, and Eleanor grabs a plate. "You are a goddess babe." 

Tahani smiles into her tea cup, and jeez, how much leaf water can that woman drink. "I had such a lovely time last night, I forgot to tell you my new appointment." 

"Yeah?" Eleanor asks, drizzling syrup over her waffle. 

Tahani beams, "Michael has asked _me_ to be his assistant. He wants a human perspective and with my eclectic history, knew I'd be perfect for the job."

"Rad," Eleanor swallows. "D'you know what you'll be doing?" 

"Nope! I find out today. You will be alright here, yes?" 

At the question Eleanor notices Tahani is fully dressed for the day, has traded in her usual dress for a crisp blouse, dark pencil skirt, and blazer. Her outfit's a little too tight to be entirely decent, or Eleanor's seen too much porn, can clearly imagine popping the top button to reveal whatever fancy shmancy bra she wears. 

"Yeah. Have a great day at work honey." 

Tahani laughs a bit at that, standing up and swooping down to drop a kiss on her cheek. "You as well dear." 

It must be because Eleanor hasn't been laid in ages, 'cause her cheek burns from the small kiss as she finishes breakfast, can't stop replaying the moment of Tahani's soft lips brushing against her skin. 

On autopilot Eleanor finishes getting ready and heads into town, calling for Janet en route. 

"Hi there." 

"Hey girl, is there a way to learn more about humanity's goodness? A teacher perhaps?" 

Janet smiles, "I'm not a girl. Yes, there is a resident teacher."

"Awesome. Bring me to them?" 

Five minutes later, Janet is introducing her to some mega nerd that's reading at a cafe – with extra books on the table. 

"Eleanor, this is Chidi Anagonye. He was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy." 

Janet's still talking about school and students, and Eleanor already knows this isn't her guy by how excited he seems at the prospect of teaching. Taking Janet's arm, she walks her a bit away. 

"Yeah, no this Chibi nerd isn't gonna cut it." 

"I can hear you!" 

Eleanor ignores his indignation, "What else ya got?" 

Not much else, it turns out. There are no chill teachers in the Good Place. There are only books. 

Eleanor’s living room has been converted to a nerd space, and even lounging around in the nude has her feeling frumpy instead of her usual sexy-dangerous-cool brand.

It’s almost enough to make her call Janet and change her mind on the geeky prof. But he’d probably give her homework and tests and quizzes and ugh, she’s bored and tired already. Just looking at all these books…  
Eleanor perks up, “Janet?”

Sexy robot lady appears, “Hi there.”

“Pitcher of margaritas for one, and don’t go easy on the tequila.”

She pops in and out of her house, reappearing with a tray topped by a most delicious looking margarita and backup pitcher.

Eleanor carefully picks up the glass with two hands, isn’t going to have a New Years ’12 incident right now, and sips deeply.

Smacking her lips at the tartness, she declares, “Perfect.”

“Would you like porn?”

“Hmm?” Eleanor hums, refilling her glass to the tippy top.

“Most residents when calling me naked require porn.”

Eleanor looks down, had totally forgotten with how pleasantly warm the house is. “Not today lady, I gotta study.”

“Not a lady,” Janet replies kindly, popping away.

Eleanor cracks her knuckles, coffee table arranged to have alcohol to the left, and books to the right. “Let’s do this. Arizona State represent!”

There's a slender book half hidden by another, subtitle visible 'On a Supposed Right to Lie because of Philanthropic Concerns' and Eleanor grabs that skinny bench. She flips past the introduction and preface, as if either of those sections are ever useful and having both is silly, to the first real section. 

There is no possibility of thinking of anything at all in the world, or even out of it, which can be regarded as good without qualification, except a good will. 

Fork, and that’s the first dang sentence. She doesn't even agree with it, like puppies are good. Chocolate and rainbows are good, this Kant is full of shirt. Well, she did pause – drink! Eleanor takes a sip and some salt, living Siri makes awesome drinks, and she returns to the book.

Intelligence, wit, judgment, and whatever talents of the mind one might want to name are doubtless in many respects good and desirable, as are such qualities of temperament as courage, resolution, perseverance. But they can also become extremely bad and harmful if the will, which is to make use of these gifts of nature and which in its special constitution is called character, is not good. 

This is going to take more than one pitcher.

.

Eleanor wakes up in the dark. The books are scattered about, and there’s a bit of margarita left in the pitcher that’s tragically watered down and warm. The nap sobered her up, and wow, she doesn’t remember a word that she read.

Ah well. She’ll try again tomorrow. It worked for econ, it’ll work for being or pretending to be a better person.

There’s a knock on the door, “Eleanor? I was wondering if you wanted to join me for dinner?”

Eleanor looks down and fork, she’s dressed in a snuggie? When the heck did that happen?

“One minute, changing!” she calls out before Tahani comes in. There isn’t enough time to clean up, so Eleanor opts to change into real clothes instead and leave the lights off. Predictably perhaps, this results in her stubbing her toe, and whisper-cursing fake forking curses.

“Eleanor? Are you alright? I heard a thump.”

She runs her fingers through her hair, and quickly walks to the door.

“Everything’s fine babe,” she answers, closing the door tight behind her. “So dinner?”

Tahani brightens instantly, looping their arms as they walk next door. “I had Janet pick up the Chef’s Tastings from Tangine’s. And baklava. Ryan added a variant to the menu in honor of me. I had no idea our time together at Met Galas meant so very much to him.”

Judging by the twinkle in Tahani’s eyes she absolutely does. Eleanor doesn’t know what the heck a tastings is, but prepared food is prepared food. “Sounds great.”

The tastings is apparently a bunch of mini meals on individual plates. Tahani points them all out and names them with little stories in the beginning, and Eleanor manages to grasp broad concepts. There’s a salmon dish, a salad, lobster, some other fish, and lamb.

Eleanor goes for the mystery fish first, making a happy noise when it turns out to be spicy and sweet.

Tahani takes a bite as well. “You can really taste the cardamom in the back, I love it.”

God, it’s just as pretentious as drinking wine with her. “Uh huh. How was your first day as an assistant?”

Tahani grips her hand suddenly, expression serious. “My dear, I must ask you to promise me you tell no one of what I shall tell you, can you promise me this?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

Tahani sighs loudly, “There’s a problem in the architecture. Michael’s putting on a good front, but he simply doesn’t know what caused the troubling events of that fateful first morning. A neighborhood is a very precise design and has extensive blueprints, there must be some out of place cog. We’re searching for it, but it feels hopeless, not knowing what it may look like.”

Eleanor’s stomach drops out, son of a bench.

It’s followed by a terrible realization: the Arizona State method may be too slow this time around. She needs to cog in or whatever, now.

.

The next morning is much like the previous. Waffles replace pancakes, Tahani’s skirt traded for smart slacks, and Eleanor’s stomach is full of dread. It’s an inevitable action she has to take, but knowing that doesn’t help at all. Nor does the thought that if she _doesn’t_ there will be far greater problems to deal with.

Today she asks Prof Chibi to go back to school.

Janet informs her that the nerd teaches his soulmate an Intro to Ethics course every morning around ten and drops her off in front of an apartment. Huh, Eleanor hadn’t even noticed these on top of some of the shops. Cute.

She knocks, not not hoping that the class is code for boning down with his soulmate.

“Come in!” A voice calls, and she does, and wow yup, right place. There’s a chalkboard and books everywhere, and the guy finishes writing something before turning to her.

“You don’t have to knock- oh! Hi, sorry I thought you were someone else.”

Eleanor smiles, “Janet said you teach an Ethics course. I’m Eleanor and I’d love to join in if you don’t mind.”

His face does an awkward thing, and Eleanor reevaluates the scene. The couch does look rather comfortable and there aren't any desks…

“Unless this is a really elaborate teacher-student roleplay sex thing?”

“No!”

“Dude chill, no judgment. I’m into mailmen, mailwomen too, mailpeople? S’all good.”

“Right, did not need to know that.”

Eleanor smiles, “So it is a real class then?”

“Yes,” he pushes his glasses up, “um, Ja- Jianyu is running a little late. Do you have any background in philosophy?” 

“Nope! Being up here, I wanted to learn more about what makes people good or bad. Janet gave me a bunch of books,” Eleanor flushes, maybe shouldn’t have mentioned them. “But uh…”

“They were indecipherable?” he offers.

Eleanor smiles, relieved he didn’t like declare her too dumb for philosophy. “Yeah man! Like I get they’re written for other people in the field, but it was all technical jargon.”

He nods, “There are some really interesting arguments about philosophy and accessibility out there. If there’s an obligation to laymen-”

“Yo, Chidi!” some guy yells from the stairs, and right, that’s his name, “you will not believe what I got!”

A not-so-silent monk runs into the apartment, Eleanor’s eyes flickering between Chidi face-palming and this guy holding a huge basket of chili cheese fries.

Eleanor bites her lips so she doesn’t grin huge: she isn’t the only mistake.

Chidi shuts the door, the new guy blathering on about some tiger in Florida, and this day couldn’t get any better.

“Hey, are you from Florida?”

“Jacksonville bay-bey!”

Chidi winces, “Eleanor this is Jason. Jason is working on being a better person, and practical applications of Ethics.”

Eleanor tilts her head to the side, curious. “Is it ethical to deceive everyone else in the neighborhood into thinking you belong, and lying by omission?”

“Oh boy,” Chidi mutters, wrapping an arm around his middle.

Jason whispers loudly, “Wow! That’s the fastest he’s ever gotten a studyache!”

Eleanor takes that as her cue, saying, “I am so sorry, this clearly isn’t what I thought it was. I’m gonna jet.”

Chidi nods, muttering things that make no sense, and Jason shrugs. “More fries for us dawg.”

Eleanor skips back to her house.

She’s safe.

She has a Jason to throw under the bus if Tahani and Michael realize they’re looking for a person, and in the meantime, she’ll be becoming a super good person that belongs. She's just got to play it cool. Like when Kelly discovered someone was stealing from her stash, and she was so calm no one suspected her, and Reggie got stuck replacing everything that was gone. Then he was kicked out of the group, and Kelly got his girlfriend to break up with him and orchestrated a drug test at work that he predictably failed and then lost his job. Wow, she does not miss earthly woes. 

Anyways, she's totally rocking this death thing.

.  
Round two with Kant commences with champagne because she's celebrating dang it. Even if it still isn't making a lick of sense – categorical imperatives, what – she's back in a good state of mind. Eventually it'll make sense and she'll move onto the next book, and maybe that one will be easier. 

And maybe it's all the champagne, but Eleanor would swear this time it's easier to read. Not understand, not yet – but it's a step in the right direction and _way_ more fun than real school.

Deciding to put supreme principles in action, or something hopefully close to it, Eleanor sets about arranging dinner. While she can't imagine Tahani ever eating any of her go to classics, she's more than capable of making a reservation at some fancy place.  
Slipping her sneakers back on, she heads back into town to find a promising restaurant. There's probably one uber fancy one that jumps out as the absolute best. 

There isn't. 

Udon Own Me, Roe-Roe-Roe Your Boat, Squab Goals, Lady And The Scampi, Penne For Your Thoughts: fork, they all look classically expensive. Eleanor goes into the nearest, Squab Goals. 

"Hello! I'm Vicky, welcome to Squab Goals! We open in an hour, if you want to wait at the bar?" 

"I wanted to make a reservation for 6:30."

"Lovely," Vicky says, tapping at a computer. "Only yourself?" 

"Uh for two. Soulmate and I." 

It feels like awkward phrasing, but Vicky doesn't bat an eyelash. "Excellent. We do these lovely soulmate booths, what is their favorite color?" 

Eleanor hesitates, and Vicky adds on, "Or their favorite art era?" 

"Uh..." 

"Default settings it is. What name should I save this under?" 

"Eleanor." 

"Great! We'll see you both this evening!" 

"Thanks," Eleanor says, feeling prickly as she leaves. Whatever, it isn't like Tahani knows her favorite color or art or whatever. It'll be fine. The more important thing is that she's bringing Tahani out to eat, and totally being an awesome soulmate and good person. 

.

"Oh a surprise, how fun. Will it require evening gloves?" 

"...if you want?" Eleanor tries, isn't really sure what event would even qualify for needing gloves. Other than high-stakes robbery, which Tahani is so not the type. (Fork, she'd look amazeballs in a catsuit.)

Tahani slips on a pair of sheer black gloves, and putting on clothing shouldn't be allowed to be that hot. Eleanor offers her arm, not trusting her voice not to do something weird. Tahani's more than happy to fill the silence, chattering on about her day assisting Michael. Today they ruled out lampposts. Tomorrow they start on rocks – quite the ambitious project Tahani assures her – and Eleanor is feeling better about her chances of not getting caught. 

The same hostess chick is at the front as before, and Eleanor smiles, "Hi-" 

She doesn't look up from the computer, "We're completely booked tonight, might I suggest our sister restaurant Last But Not Yeast?" 

"We have a reservation, Eleanor." 

The hostess finally looks up at that, not a smidgen of recognition in her eyes, as if they didn't talk a few hours ago. Her eyes land on Tahani, and she squeaks, "Oh! Miss Al-Jamil, what an honor. We do so love your sister's music, it's always on in the kitchen. Ah, and I see your reservation now, right this way." 

Each booth they pass is boldly color themed from deep violets to sky blues and rich crimsons. There's lots of hanging fabric involved, which has gotta be a fire hazard with all the burning candles. It makes for a very cozy and romantic atmosphere, and Eleanor is patting herself on the back when the hostess stops next to the blandest booth. It's all shades of tan, with one sad solitary candle. 

"I see," Tahani murmurs with a frown. 

"There aren't _any_ other tables?" Eleanor asks.

She sees the light bulb moment, and Eleanor could cheer. "We have one, more for decor but, yes, yes, this way." 

The hostess leads them to a garish orange and bright pink table, plentiful candles and posters of Kamilah, even tiny little speakers playing her music. 

Eleanor must be racking up all the good person points, because she sits with a smile and doesn't wince once. 

"How singularly unique," Tahani says, sitting opposite. 

"Great! I'm Vicky and I'll be your waitress today. Here at Squab Goals we like to set a goal in the beginning of the meal for the table," she says, handing them menus. "On the inside cover you'll see some suggestions." 

Eleanor flips it open, can't help her eyebrows from rising as she reads. 

1\. _Form a deeper connection with the Squab._  
2\. _Pass how well do you know your Squab test._  
3\. _Achieve perfect harmony within the Squab._  
4\. _Commit to improving the Squab's physical or sexual health._  
5\. _Create your own Squab goal!_

"Excuse me, is it necessary to eat squab? I was under the impression this was a diverse poultry restaurant." Tahani asks.

Vicky laughs, patting Tahani's shoulder, "Not at all, our duck confit is a crowd favorite." 

"Wonderful, I'll have that." 

"And you?" 

Eleanor skims the menu quickly, rattling off the first thing that sounds good. "I'll have the house special chicken roast." 

"Great, you won't be disappointed. Angelique's my little firecracker in the kitchen, and let me tell you, she keeps things exciting."

Eleanor thinks that's a kinda weird thing to say to people you're feeding, and Vicky is still looking at her, expecting an answer. "Cool?" 

She sighs, taking the menus and leaving, and it hits her slow. "Holy shirt! I think Vicky and her soulmate are swingers." 

Tahani's eyebrows pop up, "Oh!" 

There's an awkward silence, the tinny rendition of Kamilah's _Love in Deconstruction_ seemingly all the louder. Eleanor crinkles her nose, and then feels like an ashhole when Tahani catches the movement. 

"Sorry I uh, no offense or anything, I don't really like Kamilah's music." 

"I assure you, none is taken."

Vicky comes back to drop off waters, looking harried and walking fast, and Eleanor doesn't want a soda that bad to call her back. And, well, she's still relieved they got out of the goal setting thing. And the possible swing offer. Not that Eleanor's entirely opposed – Vicky's a hot piece – but the jealousy that burned when she so much as touched Tahani... It's probably a soulmate thing, yeah. Totally. Because they're for real soulmates and Eleanor isn't an impostor. Yup. 

Eleanor's sure Tahani's never met a silence she couldn't fill, the thought more amusing than it should be. She's going on about some event with Cher and Prince, engrossed in memory and sparkling in its retelling. She vaguely recalls Tahani saying something about being a muse before, and yeah, she buys that. 

Their food arrives with a heavy hint to 'just shout if you need _anything_ '. Pff she wishes. 

Eleanor discovers two bites in that she could actually use some salt, but like hell she's giving Vicky the satisfaction. (Bad enough she even remembers her name.)

"Oh my, this is akin to the dinner I once had with the Duke. How marvelous!" 

Fork everything.

.

Eleanor wakes up warm and cozy, her left arm numb. It's an odd combination, and she cracks an eye open, the sight waking her fully. 

Tahani is curled on her shoulder, form half contorted to make up for their height difference. Her silky pajamas clash with Eleanor's threadbare college tee and shorts. She tries flexing her arm to wake it up, but it disturbs Tahani instead, as she yawns and shakes her head, snuggling deeper into her neck. 

Long vanilla-scented hair falls across Eleanor's face, and she holds in a sneeze. Her whole body is tense, trying to stay as still as possible. 

"Hmmm," Tahani murmurs, eyelashes tickling against Eleanor's throat as she wakes. 

"Morning gorgeous." 

Tahani groans, not moving an inch and Eleanor's hit by an urge to giggle. It feels like she's in a cheap tabloid article – _Celebrities: They're People Too!_

"What's on the agenda lady?" 

Tahani sighs, rearranging herself and rolling to face her. Eleanor quickly maneuvers her dead arm to be propped over Tahani, a wash of pins and needles making her suck in air through her teeth. 

"You uh, sorting through some nefarious trees today?" 

Tahani huffs out a laugh, "If only. We're still on rocks, but Michael assured me I could take a day off while he and Janet investigate the caves. They are quite the hike away." 

"Huh, I didn't know there are caves here." 

"Oh yes, outside the neighborhood you can find a vast variety of landscapes. Janet seems particularly proud of recreating the Gobi Desert." 

Good person, Eleanor reminds herself, as she asks, "Yeah? You wanna visit sometime?" 

"Heavens no, no offense to our resident resplendent robot, but nothing could compare to the first sunset view of the true Gobi with Yo-Yo Ma playing Vivaldi." 

"Uh huh, what are you feeling then?" 

Tahani yawns, tucking her head back on Eleanor's shoulder. "Five more minutes." 

"Lazy day it is," Eleanor mumbles, ready to bet Tahani's back asleep already as she didn't object. Probably has some over the top way of saying it like 'to make a day of one's own for betterment in all facets of life'. 

Eleanor smothers a laugh, shutting her own eyes and easing back to sleep. 

.

After a rather late brunch in bed, Eleanor teaches Tahani how to play quarters with mimosas and then Tahani teaches Eleanor how to play tennis. Eleanor blames the mimosas for ever thinking it was a good idea (or more accurately she blames horny Eleanor who is all about Tahani in a little tennis skirt). 

Tennis _sucks_. 

It's all running and sweating, and not in a fun sexy way. Eleanor gives in after a half hour, crashing on the grass. 

"Tahani! C'mere, you've gotta see this!" 

Tahani obliges, frown set on her face, "Eleanor dear, you won't get any better without practice. I know it's hard now, but you will get better." 

"Ya gotta come down here babe, to get the right angle." 

Tahani sighs, but she lays right beside Eleanor, heat bouncing between them. Eleanor takes her hand, folding all fingers but the first and points to a cloud. 

"It's a bunny with a beer bottle." 

Tahani snorts, and Eleanor points to another. "Poorly drawn cat." 

Tahani laughs at the misshapen feline, and points to one that looks like an odd football. "A squashed jack'o'lantern. Poor thing has lost its face." 

Eleanor grins, can see it now. The wind picks up, scattering the clouds and leaving behind an empty blue canvas. Eleanor brings their hands down, clasped between them, doesn't let go. Tahani makes no move to rise, and Eleanor feels at peace. 

She doesn't remember falling asleep in the grass, but Tahani is kissing her awake. (It feels patently wrong, between the two of them, Tahani is the Disney princess.)

Tahani's lips are still upon hers, and Eleanor surges forward, cupping a hand around her neck and opening up the kiss. She kisses her over and over, as the grass is traded for a plush mattress, as the day's light fades away entirely, as Tahani becomes known to her by fingers and lips. 

.

The morning after is as slow as molasses, all the sweeter for traded kisses and touches. Eleanor is about to propose eating Tahani for breakfast when Janet pops into their bedroom. 

"Hi there!" 

"Janet!" Tahani yelps, pulling up the covers over herself, "What did we say about knocking?" 

"Knock knock," Janet recites. 

"No, not the jokes – never mind. Why are you in here? Right now of all possible times?" 

"There is an urgent surprise in the neighborhood center. I am contacting the required parties. You are both required." 

"Cool, we'll dress and be there," Eleanor says. 

Janet pops away, and Tahani sighs loudly, releasing her grip on the covers. "There must be a way to program her for social decencies." 

Eleanor shrugs, stretching, "I dunno, Michael's pretty sketch on the human stuff right?"

"Mhmm." 

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic answer, and catches Tahani staring at a bite mark on her thigh. She flushes when caught, and Eleanor grins, grabbing some clothes. 

"Just think, the sooner we do this surprise the sooner you can play Hannibal Lecter with this bod." 

"I would not eat-!" Tahani starts indignantly, stopping herself with a blush. "I mean, I wouldn't kill you." 

Eleanor grins, pulling on some jeans, "Babe you got zero complaints from me." 

She can hear the smug smile in Tahani's voice as she replies, "I am most pleased as well." 

Eleanor honestly deserves an award for merely holding Tahani's hand instead of taking her back to bed. 

"I'm so very glad you are my soulmate," Tahani says, crashing her mood and Eleanor can see a small crowd up ahead. The guilt is back, oily slick in her stomach. Right, that whole can of worms she hasn't been touching. 

"I'm really happy to be here with you," Eleanor says, promises herself she'll tell Tahani soon. Ish. Like within the next year for sure, once she has a bit better footing with the whole 'good person' shtick and knows Tahani won't talk. 

Ugh, being good is the worst. 

"Welcome! I pulled some strings and have an incredible surprise for everyone – our first ever family day! While some parents are alive, we've borrowed their sleeping consciousnesses to spend the day with you. For discretion purposes all living family members will believe this was a happy dream. Line up, and Janet will retrieve your visitors." 

"Joy," Eleanor says flatly, "I wonder who will be here." 

Tahani doesn't reply, and when Eleanor looks up, her face is frozen. 

"Babe? You alright?" 

Tahani clears her throat, "Mhmm, it's fine. Let's join the line." 

"You sure? We could go home if you want." 

Tahani shakes her head, "No, I... I want to see them if they come." 

Eleanor squeezes her hand, "Alright." 

It's a very slow moving line, Michael introducing himself to each of the parents. Which seems unnecessary since a bunch of them aren't gonna remember, but whatever. There's lots of hugging and crying, and this is gonna be super awkward if her real parents show up. All happy reunions and then the Shellstrops, mega yikes. 

Then again, two randos that she's never met declaring her not their daughter would be worse, so. 

The fake monk is next, and Eleanor eavesdrops, curious. 

"Jianyu, as you haven't seen your biological parents in over twenty years, I had Janet retrieve your teacher, lama Tsering, so you can meditate together." 

Fake monk nods seriously, face blank, and Eleanor may be projecting, but he seems disappointed. There are a few more of the standard hugging and crying reunions, and then another odd one. The teacher this time. 

"Chidi, unfortunately only one of your parents can come. Would you prefer your mother or father?" 

"Eleanor," Tahani whispers, "what's your family like?"

"Heh, where to start. My parents had a pretty nasty divorce when I was young, and neither of them wanted to deal with me. So I grew up fast and didn't look back." Eleanor swallows, feeling exposed. "What about yours?" 

Tahani's grip on her hand becomes painful tight for a breath. "They rather preferred Kamilah's successes. It may be... nice to talk to them without her here. Is that awful of me?" 

"Not at all babe," Eleanor says, and leaning up on her toes, she can barely manage to dot a kiss on her epic jawline. "How about after all this, me, you, some wine and a hot tub?" 

"That sounds divine." 

"Chidi? Have you made a decision? You're holding up the line." 

"Right, have my mother, no father, no sorry my mother, wait no – I'll er, stand over here and think and the next person can go. Does that work?" 

Michael blinks, "Sure. Next up is Tahani! My favorite assistant, are you ready?" 

"Indeed," Tahani says, letting go of Eleanor's hand and walking over to Janet. Eleanor can't hear them over the swell of noise from everyone, but Tahani's smile doesn't look fake, that's gotta be a good sign. 

"Alright, Eleanor! I'm afraid your parents ah, refused to be in the same room for Janet to work her consciousness transportation." 

"That sounds like them," Eleanor mutters. 

"So we have your mother!" 

And there she is. The sight hits her like a punch, can't remember the last time she saw this woman. 

"Mom." 

"Mrs. Shellstrop, quite the honor. I'm Michael the architect, do let me know if there's anything we can do for you to make your visit more pleasant." 

Her mom snorts, "You can start with booze then." 

A blink later Janet's handing her mom an Arizona sunrise, and Eleanor walks her to an empty bit of space away from the landing zone. 

"How are you mom?" 

"How am I?" she echoes with a laugh. "I"m living baby! You though, how did you die?" 

Eleanor winces, "Car accident. This is the Good Place though, so I can't complain." 

"Uh huh," she drawls. "That weirdo robot lady said something about soulmates?" 

"Yeah, everyone here has one," Eleanor says, gut spinning again. 

Her mom's looking around the crowd, "Some lookers for sure baby. Which man is yours?" 

"Woman," Eleanor says, nodding in Tahani's direction. 

"Oh baby! You snagged a rich famous one, well done!" 

Eleanor rolls her eyes, "It's the afterlife mom. Money doesn't matter here." 

"Whatever, I'm still proud of you baby girl." 

The muscles in her fingers spazz. Her mom's never, she wouldn't – a chill darts down her spine as she looks around again. At the dude who definitely doesn't belong with a monk he's never met, the teacher still trying to decide which parent he loves more, and Tahani. Oh poor Tahani. 

Eleanor ignores whatever's wearing her mom's face, walking up to her. 

"-Kamilah would've been better." 

"Quite right dear." 

She takes Tahani's hand, who jumps a bit at her sudden arrival, and wipes her face before meeting her eyes. She looks on the edge of crying, and yup, fork all of this. 

"C'mon babe, let's get out of here." 

"But our parents-?" 

"They're not. This- this is torture babe." The final epiphany hitting her as she speaks, "This is the Bad Place!" 

Michael groans loudly, there's a snap, and then darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> [end credits]  
> Kant's direct quotes are from the Ellington translation of Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals.  
> The punny restaurant names are from one of the show's co-writers, Amram's, twitter. Recognizable dialogue is from the show. 
> 
> & a huge thank you to archase for making a donation to NAACP LDF \o/


End file.
